


Aww, mouth, no

by EstelweNadia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Avengers Family, BAMF Clint Barton, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff and Crack, Gen, How Do I Tag, Humor, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Innuendo, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Clint Barton, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Randomness, Tags Are Hard, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstelweNadia/pseuds/EstelweNadia
Summary: Clint will do anything to get Bucky to like him back, or at least, smile, or maybe if it's too much to ask for,  maybe it's enough to get Bucky to react. Even if it means that Clint has to come up with lame, embarrassing lines for that.*Chapter 6 onwards will be from Bucky's POV





	1. Seriously, Clint?

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally random. Inspiration hit me like a truck when I was supposed to be doing work instead of procrastinating and being distracted, haha. 
> 
> I think I might continue. 
> 
> Maybe. 
> 
> I think...

"You'll be the perfect quiver for my only shaft that isn't in my quiver of arrows, and when I finally shoot, you'll be quivering for more," Clint said coyly, waggling his eyebrows. 

That garnered plenty of reactions.

Natasha rolled her eyes. She's such a wet blanket sometimes. "Seriously, Clint?"

Tony sighed loudly and cursed unintelligibly underneath his breath. Clint caught a garbled "lame", and maybe "kill me now". Clint thought that maybe Tony was secretly impressed. 

Steve looked away and elsewhere, but the tips of his ears were slowly reddening. Huh? That was interesting. 

Bruce muttered about fetching tea to soothe his scarred soul and possibly bleach to cleanse his mind as he hurriedly skittered off.

Thor guffawed, slapping his hand against the countertop as if Clint had told him the funniest joke of all the Nine Realms. Well, did he?

Sam just fixed him a cold, black look that practically radiated how exactly unimpressed he was at what Clint thought was his personal best, cleverest remark. 

And Bucky...

"Hey, OW!" Clint complained, hand flying up to his smarting head as he glared woefully at the scowling Winter Soldier. "What did you do that for, Terminator?"

Bucky had unforgivingly thwapped the back of Clint's head and was now fixing the baffled archer a heated glare. 

"That was for being so utterly... Incorrigibly..." Bucky threw up his hands in exasperation. "Be glad I didn't use my other hand, Hawkass!" 

With that Bucky stormed off, but Clint wasn't called Hawkeye for nothing. 

Oh yeah, baby. Bucky was definitely blushing.


	2. Really, Clint?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another appearance of Clint's antics.

It was a quiet afternoon at the Avengers Tower. Quiet afternoons were a luxury nowadays, and the Avengers intended to make full use of it as best as they could before the unthinkable happened;

Steve was lounging on the sofa, sketching away.

Natasha was curled up at the corner on a plush armchair, engrossed in her novel. 

Bruce was perching at the barstool, reading newspaper.

Tony was fiddling away with his tablet, brows furrowing in concentration. 

Sam sat hunched over the coffee table, absently toying with Redwing. 

Bucky was alone at the kitchen counter, cradling his mug of coffee and was lost in thought.

"You know..." the slow, lazy voice of the most annoying person Bucky knew, drawled. He didn't even need to look up to know who had just entered, and simultaneously shattered the peace of that afternoon. "Misery loves company."

"Clint." Bucky growled, "Step away from my coffee."

A collective groan of "They are at it again." was heard, then there was a rustle and everyone tried to escape as far away from the unfolding scene without actually moving away from their spot.

Clint stopped his advance, his hands already up in surrender even as he whined, "But, Bucky! You make the best damn coffee and you refuse to share?"

"But of course," Bucky smirked, deliberating raising the mug of coffee to his lips. "This is MY coffee."

He took a long noisy sip, swallowing audibly and made obscene, exaggerated noises of pleasure, and all this time his eyes never left Clint's. 

Clint glared. Suddenly there was something in his hand and then it wasn't. All Bucky heard was a couple of sharp pings before something fell into his mug with a loud plop. 

A coin. Clint must have ricocheted it in such a way that the damn thing ended up in his mug, and now he got some coffee on his face. 

Bucky fixed the smug archer a thunderous look that faintly echoed that of the Winter Soldier's. 

The insufferable idiot merely smirked in response, not deterred the slightest. "You know, Bucky... When I shoot, I don't miss. I NEVER miss..."

He ended it with a conspiratorial, suggestive whisper, "And I don't just mean my arrows."

The silence that befell in the room was so thick, not even a coin could shatter it. 

It was only broken when Bucky dumped the entire contents of the mug over Clint's head, and slammed the now empty mug onto the table. 

And then he was gone. 

Clint took the opportunity to gleefully grab the still-full coffee carafe and cradled it protectively, lovingly to his chest. He didn't even seemed to notice, or care, that he was actually drenched in coffee. He was surrounded by his most precious thing in the world - coffee - and nothing else mattered anymore. 

"Really, Clint?" Natasha's voice was flat and definitely unamused. 

Clint only flashed her an innocent smile and a cheeky salute in reply. 

Still grinning, he slunk away with his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it so far! I actually have no idea where I'm going with this, and how far. ^^;
> 
> Thank you very much for your support!


	3. Awwww, Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint had to do what Clint gotta do.

Clint hated the day when bad guys had gotten clever.

Of all days, HYDRA and AIM decided to tag team against the Avengers so they could steal something valuable from Stark's safe - Blueprint of a weapon of mass destruction that had been destroyed long ago, Tony had insisted.

Avengers Tower was now in total lockdown mode.

"Then why do you still keep the damn thing?" Clint sniped, nocking three arrows and released them at a group of AIM goons that was about to converge onto Steve.

"Just in case!" Tony yelled back. "We might never know when we might need it!"

"We?" Clint was pissed at everything and everyone in general today. He hadn't even managed to drink his coffee before the alarm sounded. Now his coffee was sitting cold and alone in the Tower. "Or you mean, them?"

"They had Bucky cornered!" Sam reported tersely, "I can't get to him in time!"

Clint immediately abandoned his post and sprinted towards Bucky. "I'm on it!"

"Go!" Tony flew over him, firing repulsor rays around him to clear his path, "I'll cover you!"

As Clint neared, he released five arrows, taking out five goons surrounding Bucky and then Clint swung his bow to clout another, before turning around to drive his boot into the last remaining assailant.

When he looked over at Bucky, Clint was dismayed to find Bucky's face void of any expression and recognition.

It was the face of the Winter Soldier awaiting orders.

"Bucky..." Clint was aware of how helpless he sounded, how broken. Somehow the fighting around him simply faded away at the intensity of the moment, where only him and Bucky existed.

Clint didn't even know what to say. He might worsen the situation, he might not but he had to try so he said the first thing that came into his mind.

"I never miss my targets, Bucky..." Clint took a slow, tentative step forward, and another, and another until he was standing really close to Bucky. Bucky didn't move, didn't even react, and Clint's heart fell.

Still, he looked at Bucky in the eyes, wanting so much to reach up and cradle that face, to run his thumb through the stubble across the prominent cheekbone. He didn't, though. He could only stare at Bucky's impassive countenance, and wished that things were different.

"... But I miss you," Clint finished softly. "So please, Bucky, come back to us."

_Come back to me._

A faint "Awwww, Clint..." filtered through his comm, but went unregistered.

Long moments passed, and still Bucky didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even stir.

Despaired, Clint lowered his gaze. What should he do now?

 _THWAP_!

"Hey!" Clint reached up to rub his aching head, glaring at the one responsible - who could only be...

"Bucky!"

Bucky lowered his hand. He arched a challenging eyebrow at Clint, as if daring him to do something about it.

Clint retaliated by stamping his booted shoe on Bucky's. Hard. Yeah, he's such an adult, so sue him.

"Hate to break the chick flick moment, guys, but we still have the Tower to defend!" But Tony didn't sound worried at all. In fact, he sounded happy to be breaking the moment.

"Don't worry about it," Steve calmly interjected, "They're retreating. Good job, everyone! And Clint?"

"Yeah?" Clint stared at Bucky's back as he turned to walk away.

" _"I never miss my targets, but I miss you?"_ " Natasha's incredulous voice overrode Steve's, "How did you ever come up with that line?"

Face flushing, Clint turned away to join Bucky to regroup with the other Avengers. "Shaddap. It's none of your business."

"Awwww, Clint..."


	4. Dammit, Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's an ass, but he's everyone's lovable (at least he thinks so), favourite (he hopes) ass. 
> 
> Right?
> 
> (Summary might not reflect the story, haha, sorry. ^^;)

Clint had been running out of hearing aids faster than the coffee in his coffee pot these days.

Hearing aid number 1 succumbed to the EMP blasts and some electrical mumbo jumbo the Baddie of the day had decided to use. That was three weeks ago.

Which was fine. He tossed the damaged pair absently ( _and he knew without looking that they had landed in the dumpster somewhere_ ) and gratefully accepted the spare set of hearing aids that Nat had silently handed him. God bless Nat. What would he do without her?

And life had moved on.

Until the following week ( _which was just last week_ ) when during a SHIELD mission he was pushed ( _not slipped, okay? And he didn't fall, thank you very much. He was pushed, people._ _Pushed_.) into a river during a fight with the minions of the villain of that mission. By the time he managed to heave himself up onto the riverbank, hearing aids number 2 were waterlogged and useless, leaving him incommunicado and stranded ( _and wet and cold and miserable and alone_ ) in the middle of nowhere. He had to find his own extraction point, and he was finally extracted from the site four hours later.

His final pair of hearing aids ( _Tony was still in the process of making him another one_ ) found its untimely demise under Bucky's boots an hour ago. It was his fault, actually. Clint was still more asleep than awake when he made his way to the Tower's communal kitchen. He should have worn the aids before heading out, but no, he didn't. He didn't notice JARVIS' frantic flickers of light in an attempt to attract his attention, nor did he notice another presence in the room until something rammed full tilt into him.

The next thing he belatedly knew, he was knocked unceremoniously onto his ass, and his hand that was clutching his hearing aids was suddenly clutching at nothing. Thankfully they were laying only a few paces away, but when Clint was about to reach out for them, a boot promptly descended on them.

Clint could imagine the crack, or crunch of the tiny things underneath that heavy boot. Which looked very familiar...

"Aww, hearing aid, no..." Clint mourned, arm still outstretched. Look like silence would his constant companion until someone gave him a new pair, which was highly unlikely at moment.

Bucky's apologetic face suddenly filled his vision, and Clint could only marvel at the breathtaking sight of Bucky so very, very near.

"Sorry," Bucky mouthed. He looked so miserable that Clint actually felt sorry for him, even though it wasn't really his fault.

Desperate to defuse the awkwardness of the situation, and desperate to wipe away the immense guilt on Bucky's face, Clint said the first thing that popped into his mind, "I see better from a distance, but I like it better to see certain things up close and personal."

Like Bucky's gorgeous lips.

Or his equally gorgeous bedroom eyes.

Or his...

_Aww, brain, no._

Then he realized that he was staring at Bucky like a besotted teenager.

_Aww, Clint, no._

Clint allowed Bucky to pull him up to his feet. Bucky was mumbling something too fast for Clint to catch ( _or that perhaps Clint was too caught up with the lingering warmth of Bucky's hand_ ), and then Bucky was gone.

_Dammit, Clint._

Clint stared at Bucky's last known position, wondering if he was dreaming of the encounter. He was maybe still asleep, afterall.

His eyes surreptitiously strayed to the floor, to the remains of his hearing aids. Then he recalled Bucky's warmth on his hand, and his ass was still aching thanks to the impromptu contact with the floor.

Oh. So he wasn't dreaming then.

Because Clint was Clint, he decided to keep the broken pieces of his hearing aids.

No, not for Tony to look at.

He just thought it would be fun to tease ( _no, he wasn't going to blackmail.. Or was he?_ ) Bucky about it once in the while.

Heh.


	5. Clint, you...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I like my coffee like how I like my man - dark, intense, bitter and too hot for anyone else to handle."

Clint's bludgeoning addiction to coffee was well-known to everyone who knew him. They knew that Clint wouldn't function without coffee ( _even if it's his own sludge he called coffee_ ) first thing he woke up, no matter when.

Tony tried to be funny one day by replacing his coffee with decaf, and once Clint realized it he got so mad he overrode JARVIS's security code to access to Tony's many Iron Man's armors and spray-painted all of them in bright pink and purple. And glitters.

Nat helped. ( _He cooked her favorite meal from scratch, as a token of his gratitude for always having his back, and even delivered it to her room, much to her delight_ )

The very next day the Avengers were called out - Tony's resulting roar of outrageous " **CLINTON FRANCIS BARTON**!" was truly beautiful.

Secretly Nat and he exchanged a hi-five, and they broke into uncharacteristically uncontrollable laughter when Tony flew out in his sparkly pink Iron Man armor ( _because none was spared in Clint's revenge so he was forced to deploy in one_ )

Then he realized that Bucky finally knew his full name, but he was too happy with the sight of pink Iron Man to care.

When Bucky called Tony " _Iron Princess_ " in the middle of the battle, Sam had to cover him while Clint doubled over laughing.

My, what wonderful memories.

Speaking of coffee...

Clint could smell its seductive aroma from a mile away, and like a heat-seeking ( _or rather, coffee-seeking_ ) missile, Clint followed his nose towards the kitchen where a full coffee pot ( _and a mug_ ) sat waiting for him. Clint ignored the mug in favour of drinking the heavenly nectar straight from the source.

He placed the pot down, contentedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Only then he caught sight of something on the table placed inconspicuously next to the abandoned mug.

Oh. Hearing aids, and from the looks of it, it was from Tony! Clint reached for it with grabby hands. It was embarrassing how he failed to notice the device. Some Hawkeye he was. He put them on and activated them.

"Good morning, Clint."

Clint was so startled at the unexpected voice he stood frozen on the spot. _Ohmygod, ohmygod it's Bucky! How long has he been sitting there watching me? How could I not notice him there? This is so embarrassing. Ohmygod, ohmygod ohmygod..._

Bucky watched on, amused and if Clint dared to hope, maybe a little bit fond. Clint colored further at that thought, so he looked away, trying to hide his reddening face.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night," Bucky continued, just to break the awkward silence, "I cornered Tony after that to ask about the new aids, but luckily he was very nearly done so..."

At that, Clint whirled around to face Bucky. "Aww, Bucky, you shouldn't have..."

Bucky gave a dismissive shrug. "How do you like the coffee anyway? I don't exactly know how you like your coffee though, so I just made it like I made it for myself."

"Aww, Bucky," Clint sidled closer to the counter and before he could stop himself, he said, in a voice that he used when he was seducing a mark, while staring intensely into Bucky's intense eyes. "I like my coffee like how I like my man - dark, intense, bitter and too hot for anyone else to handle."

_Aww, mouth, no._

Clint instantly readied himself for another deserving thwap that Bucky was so fond to give, but Bucky merely smirked at him. "So, who is the lucky man?"

It was Clint's turn to give a dismissive shrug. "He's not even mine yet. I mean, I don't even know if he likes me or not..."

"What if he does?" Bucky suddenly sounded so close, and startled, Clint turned to look at him, only to realize that their faces were merely inches apart. Clint's heart thundered so loudly in his chest Clint wondered if Bucky could hear it.

"Then I would be the luckiest man alive," Clint whispered.

"Then you're lucky."

Clint frowned, confused. "No, I'm not. Lucky's my dog. I'm Clint."

Bucky sighed in exasperation, "Clint, you..."

And then suddenly, they were kissing. Clint's heart stopped for a moment, before it soared in indescribable happiness.

"Do I taste bitter to you?" Bucky joked when they finally broke apart.

"My kind of bitter," Clint replied without missing a beat, grinning mischievously.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're such a dork."

"Your dork," came Clint's immediate rejoinder.

Bucky laughed, and wow, was Clint mesmerized. He had never seen Bucky laugh. It definitely beat the sound of Tony screaming his name in full.

Bucky reached out across the kitchen counter to lace their fingers together.

"Yes, Clint. Mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I hope this is able to cheer some of us up. 
> 
> Cheers! ^^


	6. What an asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Bucky thought he had the archer (seriously, who used bow and arrows these days? Nobody used bow and arrows during his time and that was over seventy years ago) figured out, Clint had gamely proved him wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your support, comments and kudos! You gave me the fire to keep on writing. ^^
> 
> This chapter was dedicated to you wonderful people for being awesome. You know who you are. XD

Bucky finally became an Avenger.

He figured that it was only right for him to be one; because Steve was part of it and he had sworn to walk with him till the end of the line, Natalia was part of it, and maybe he could get to know the Natasha she was now instead of the Natalia she used to be, Tony was part of it - it was mostly guilt that influenced his decision because when Tony asked him join Avengers ( _even though Bucky couldn't understand why Tony would want his parents' murderer to be in the team, to be near him_ ) Bucky couldn't say no.

He was introduced to Bruce Banner; a genius scientist just like Tony, except that Bruce was more reserved. Bucky had difficulty imagining this mild man to transform into a being so monstrous, but with what had been going on nowadays, Bucky figured that he shouldn't be surprised.

A god amongst men. Bucky would never believe that saying until he met Thor himself - the God of Thunder from Asgard. Thor exuded every bit of a god's personality that Bucky had somewhat expected - loud, exuberant and... godly. Thor's handshake nearly jarred his flesh shoulder from its socket, and knocked the breath out of him when Thor clapped his back. Steve was stifling his laughter at Bucky's resulting glare at the Asgardian's sheepish apology.

He greeted Sam Wilson, codenamed Falcon, with a curt nod, which Sam returned with a stony look. From what he had understood, Sam had been Steve's new best friend when Bucky had gone missing, and then when he had gone rogue. From the look of Falcon's face, Bucky knew that he didn't like him. Well, screw him too. Even though Bucky ought to thank him for being with Steve when he couldn't, Bucky still couldn't accept the fact that Steve had a new best buddy, when Bucky should be the only best buddy, like how Steve was still and would always be his best buddy.

And then there was Clint Barton, codenamed Hawkeye, who was endlessly intriguing, amusing, annoying, frustrating, and confusing the hell out of him every damn time.

The official Avengers mission had gone well today, and they were celebrating its success - minimum collateral damage, no causalities and the mission accomplished in record time, with the least amount of injuries ( _except for Clint who had bruises and cracked ribs because that guy was simply a human disaster_ ). The entire team was relaxing at the Tower's observatory room, drinking beers and eating pizzas and Pop Tarts ( _Thor's favourite_ ).

Bucky was surprised when Clint declined to drink, preferring coffee instead. He happily sat at one corner with the coffee pot all to himself, skillfully twirling a drum stick around his fingers ( _He probably stole it from the unused drum set at the small stage at the other end of the room_ ).

"Guys, I found something interesting from... ah, the Internet," Steve was saying, scrutinizing at his phone's screen.

Tony immediately looked curious. "What is it? Spit it out. We're dying to know."

"Is it called the... Avengers' me...me?" Steve's voice faltered at the end, uncertain on how to pronounce the strange word.

"Oh! Meme!" Clint brightly corrected, "As in, _MEEM_! What about it, Cap? Tell us!"

"Throw the picture out here so everyone can see, Steve," Tony admonished impatiently when he clearly saw Steve was still frowning at the stupid meme or whatever it was.

Steve flicked something on his phone and then suddenly a holographic screen of something flashed out in the air in front of them. Tony helped to make it bigger, and clearer, much to Steve's embarrassed indignation.

When they saw and understood the picture, everyone burst out laughing. Except for Nat, who merely smirked, and himself, who was still confused.

It showed a picture of each Avenger ( _with exception of Natalia and Sam_ ), complete with appropriate expression with words to complement them.

Tony, in his best flirty voice, read, " _"With me, you'll never have to sleep in the dark."_ "

To which Clint chimed in, "It makes sense because you have the Arc Reactor!" before he started laughing uncontrollably again.

Thor read his exactly the way he would say it, " _"Doth thou mother know I'll be removing thou drapes?"_ " A slight pause of bafflement. "What is this supposed to mean?! I did not recall having uttered such nonsense!"

"Relax," Sam intervened, but he was grinning from ear to ear, "The entire thing was a joke. People created this using our photos and added words to it. Nothing serious, really."

Then it was Steve's turn, and he was frowning deeply when he said it, " _"When they made me a super soldier, all of my muscles got bigger."_ "

Bucky nearly choked on his drink, and he coughed to stifle his laughter. He wouldn't worry, though, because the entire room howled with laughter again.

Clint was shy of rolling around on the ground - he was laughing so hard even though he was favoring his cracked ribs. Bucky couldn't help but stare.

"It's not funny!" Steve admonished hotly, his face reddening at the obvious implication.

"But it is, Steve," Sam merrily clapped Steve on his back, and Bucky had to fight an urge to throw a cushion at him. "When you became a super soldier, everything of yours got bigger..."

"Especially his pride," Bucky snorted into his drink, to which Steve replied with an indignant, betrayed "Hey!"

"Guys, look at Hulk," Clint interrupted, and all eyes turned to the holographic screen again, "And that smirk, oh god, I can't -"

" _"HULK not kidding; it's so big, it rips clothes off.""_ Tony read, but Bruce flatly cut him off before anyone else could say anything, "Let it be known that whatever ' _it_ ' is implying, Hulk's pants are still attached, thank you very much."

"Brucie bear, don't be such a wet blanket!" Tony complained.

Bruce merely shrugged and continued nursing his drink, ignoring Tony completely.

" _"The longest arrow I have isn't in my quiver?"_ " Clint read, his voice incredulous. "Hey, I can come up with better lines than that!"

Bucky shot him an unimpressed, annoyed look over the rim of his glass. "Oh yeah?"

He should have known better than to bait someone like Hawkeye.

"You'll be the perfect quiver for my only shaft that isn't in my quiver, and when I finally shoot, you'll be quivering for more," Clint said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

What was worse was that Clint was staring right at him when he said it. 

The entire room fell eerily silent for a long minute before what Clint said finally sunk in. Then it garnered plenty of reactions;

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Clint?"

Tony sighed loudly and cursed unintelligibly underneath his breath. Bucky caught a garbled _"lame"_ , and maybe _"kill me now"_.

Steve looked away and elsewhere, but the tips of his ears were slowly reddening.

Bruce muttered about fetching tea to soothe his scarred soul and possibly bleach to cleanse his mind as he hurriedly skittered off.

Thor guffawed, slapping his hand against the countertop as if Clint had told him the funniest joke of all the Nine Realms.

Sam just fixed him a cold, black look that practically radiated how exactly unimpressed he was.

And Bucky...

Bucky wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off the archer's face but mindful that Clint was still injured, Bucky marched right over to give him an unforgiving smack to the back of his head.

"Hey, OW!" Clint complained, hand flying up to his smarting head as he glared woefully at him. "What did you do that for, Terminator?" 

"That was for being so utterly... Incorrigibly..." Bucky threw up his hands in exasperation. "Be glad I didn't use my other hand, Hawkass!"

Just when Bucky thought he had the archer ( _seriously, who used bow and arrows these days? Nobody used bow and arrows during his time and that was over seventy years ago_ ) figured out, Clint had gamely proved him wrong.

With that Bucky stormed off, hoping that he exited quickly enough that Clint wouldn't be able to see how swiftly red his face was turning.

"When you walk out of that door, you're an Avenger!" Clint crackled cheerfully at his back just as Bucky stepped over the threshold.

" ** _CLINT_**!" Bucky could hear the others yelling in unison.

But Clint only erupted into another fit of hysterical laughter.

What an asshole, Bucky thought grimly.

Still, he couldn't deny feeling that the ice around his heart was slowly melting away by the ever growing warmth that was known as Clint Barton.


	7. What an idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The insufferable idiot merely smirked in response, not deterred the slightest. "You know, Bucky... When I shoot, I don't miss. I NEVER miss..."
> 
> He ended it with a conspiratorial, suggestive whisper, "And I don't just mean my arrows."

It was rare for the Avengers to have an afternoon free; even rarer when everyone was present for it. Nobody was away for SHIELD missions or looking-after-grandma schtik.

 _It was kinda nice_ , Bucky reflected, settling down with his coffee while his eyes calmly observed the others. They fell on Steve first, and his expression immediately turned fond.

Steve loved to draw, and that hadn't change since Bucky last remembered him. By now Steve might have a stack of sketchbooks, all filled up and safely hidden away. Bucky wondered what Steve was sketching this time. Probably New York's skyline. Or something from his memory. Bucky took a mental note to ask Stevie to show him his sketches one day.

Natalia was curled up like a cat in her deep red armchair ( _she wouldn't let anyone sit on that chair even though Bucky suspected that Clint might have been an exception - Bucky had seen Clint in it plenty of times whenever she was away on missions_ ) situated in a cozy, secluded corner at the far end of the room reading a book. From the look of it, Natalia seemed to have snag it from Clint's bookshelf. Bucky fought a sudden, yet unexplained pang of jealousy.

"Lord of the Rings," Natalia was saying, giving him an bemused look. Ah, she must have caught him staring. Then she shrugged, already shifting her gaze down towards her book. "Clint wouldn't stop pestering me until I read his most favourite collection. You should try it. It's a joy to read."

Clint had been bugging everyone to, and was plainly ignored. Bucky thought that Natalia must have owed the archer a favor of some sort, to finally give into his whims and fancy.

Tony was sprawled on one of the plush couches, fiddling with his tablet. Bruce was seated not far from Tony, engrossed in reading newspapers. It was a miracle to see those two scientists willingly spending time out of their labs, though from Tony's frown, Bucky was sure that Tony was working on one of his projects. Sometimes he would quietly conferred with Bruce about it, who would abandon his news reading to entertain Tony.

Huh. Science bros indeed.

Sam was hunched over the coffee table, Redwing in his hands. Not that Bucky was interested to know what he was doing with it. None of his business.

"You know..." the slow, lazy voice of the most annoying person Bucky knew, drawled. He didn't even need to look up to know who had just entered, and simultaneously shattered the peace of that afternoon. "Misery loves company."

Clint had just gotten back from a mission last night. A quick, furtive once-over revealed that Clint wasn't too banged-up - merely bruises upon bruises here and there and a band-aid on his nose as well as his cheek and brow.

There was only one reason that Clint was here, though, if his blatantly shameless eyeing of the full coffee pot was any indication. Bucky felt the pang of jealousy all over again, before he squashed it vehemently with incredulity and a sense of ridiculousness. Why was he jealous of a friggin' coffee pot?!

"Clint," Bucky growled. Everyone in the Avengers was on first name basis with everyone else, so why couldn't he? "Step away from my coffee."

A collective groan of " _They are at it again._ " was heard, then there was a rustle as everyone tried to escape as far away from the unfolding scene as possible without actually moving away from their spot. Kudos to them. Assholes.

Clint stopped his advance, his hands already up in surrender even as he whined, "But, Bucky! You make the best damn coffee and you refuse to share?"

"But of course," Bucky smirked, deliberating raising the mug of coffee to his lips. "I made this best damn coffee so this best damn coffee is mine."

He took a long noisy sip, swallowing audibly and made obscene, exaggerated noises of pleasure, and all this time his eyes never left Clint's.

What. He could be an asshole too. Stevie would know.

Clint glared. Suddenly there was something in his hand and then it wasn't. All Bucky heard was a couple of sharp pings before something fell into his mug with a loud plop.

A coin. Clint must have ricocheted it in such a way that the damn thing ended up in his mug, and now he got some coffee on his face.

Bucky fixed the smug archer a thunderous look that was very reminiscent of the Winter Soldier.

The insufferable idiot merely smirked in response, not deterred the slightest. "You know, Bucky... When I shoot, I don't miss. I NEVER miss..."

He ended it with a conspiratorial, suggestive whisper, "And I don't just mean my arrows."

The silence that befell in the room was so thick, not even a coin could shatter it.

Bucky blinked, shocked speechless at the indecent images that unwittingly flashed across his mind at Clint's remark.

It was only broken when Bucky dumped the entire contents of the mug over Clint's head, and slammed the now empty mug onto the table.

Bucky stormed out of the room before anyone could catch him blushing.

Bucky Barnes, once the Winter Soldier feared by all, _blushing_?

Not a chance!

"What an idiot," Bucky muttered crossly to himself as he marched his way towards the range.

Clint's an idiot - a tragic, klutzy, human disaster, asshole of an idiot but tried as he might, Bucky just couldn't hate him.

It made him wonder sometimes who was the idiot he was referring to.


	8. What a dork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky smirked. "'I never miss my targets but I miss you.' Seriously, Clint? What a dork."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This is an entirely new story together, not about Bucky's POV of chapter 3. Hope you don't mind. ^^; -

In the cryogenic chamber deep within the Wakandan palace, Bucky wasn't actually sleeping.

Or maybe he was - floating among memories and thoughts that he wasn't exactly sure was really his or part of his dreams, because he was merely a spectator, watching from afar - detached, unconnected, unconcerned.

Sometimes he heard voices too - murmurs of some scientific mumbo jumbo discussing about his condition, or Steve's worried rumble, Wanda's soft enquiries, the King's calming tenor, Wilson's quiet voice, Scott's futile attempts to be lighten the situation.

Then the torrents of images suddenly dissolved, leaving him adrift in a stretch of inky blackness before a voice filtered though the darkness, filling him with warmth and a feeling of contentment.

"Hey, Bucky."

Clint. Somehow Clint managed to sneak into the room despite numerous warnings. Yeah, Bucky heard how Steve had sternly reprimanded him, how exasperatedly the scientists had complained about him, how T'Challa had admonished him, yet here he still was, by Bucky's cyro, talking to him every single night.

Bucky didn't know why the man was so invested in him.

"I hope you are doing alright in there... You're not having nightmares or anything, right? The King had up and down sworn that your sleep would be peaceful."

_It is indeed peaceful, Clint._

"I don't even know why I keep doing this," Clint rambled on. Bucky could imagine him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, looking all disconcerted and self-conscious even though there was only the two of them in the room. "But I guess you could use some company. It isn't right to leave you all alone by yourself like this, even though I know you can't hear me or anything, since you are obviously sleeping like a Sleeping Beauty."

_You're wrong, Clint. I can hear every single thing you're saying. And hey, you didn't just compare me to a fairy tale Princess!_

"Sleeping Beauty, hah!" Clint crackled, very much amused to the very idea of comparing the Winter Soldier to some fairy tale Princess. Clint must have seen something though, because he immediately quietened, and conspiratorially whispered, "Okay, you'll probably kill me if you found out that I actually called you that..."

_I definitely will, Clinton Francis Barton! You better watch out!_

"So I'll just gonna call you Sleeping Bucky instead," there was a note of flourish in his tone, as if he was damn proud of himself coming up with such an ingenious nickname for someone who couldn't even fight back. Asshole.

Deep in the sea of darkness, Bucky scowled at the archer. He was not amused, thank you very much.

"Hey!" He sounded chagrin, then. Oh, did it show on his face? "Don't death glare me in your sleep! It's true anyway. You're Bucky, and you're sleeping, so, Sleeping Bucky!"

_I'm not actually sleeping! I can hear you just fine!_

"So..." Clint trailed off, and there was a long pause before he continued, "I've been snooping around since I can't sleep - you know, nightmares and all - unlike a certain Sleeping Bucky here..."

_Would you stop with the Sleeping Bucky and get on with what you want to tell me?!_

"... And I heard that you know, it's a mental thing," Clint tried to explain, "They said that if you delve deep into your memories and confront that particular memory that made you the Winter Soldier instead of the Sleeping..." Clint hastily amended himself, "James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, Steve's bestest friend, if you confront and defeat that particular memory, you'll break free of the programming and eventually wake up on your own..."

A quiet huff of sad laughter. "Then you wouldn't even need a Prince Charming to wake you up. As much as I wanted to." There was another pause, and Bucky felt a touch of warmth in the darkness, and suddenly, Clint's voice sounded a lot closer. "But alas, I am no Prince, neither am I charming. I'm just a walking human disaster fresh out of retirement."

_What do you mean?_

The warmth left him suddenly, leaving him strangely bereft, cold and lonely.

"You know," Clint still sounded sad, underneath that false cheer he tried to inject in his voice, and Bucky wanted nothing more than to reach out for Clint and do anything to chase the sadness away. Sad Clint was just... wrong.

"I never miss my targets, but I miss you, Bucky."

A deep, shuddering sigh, followed by an even quieter whisper, like the breeze in a sunny afternoon, "Come back to us, Bucky."

"Come back to me."

**"CLINTON FRANCIS BARTON!"**

Steve's voice, and boy, was he mad.

"I gotta go, Sleeping Bucky," Clint sounded rushed. He was probably found out. "See you another time. Good night!"

And then the warmth was truly gone, the voice gone. Belatedly Bucky realized that he was alone again.

But...

Clint's voice still echoed, " _...if you confront and defeat that particular memory, you'll break free of the programming and eventually wake up on your own..._ "

Bucky knew exactly which memory he had to confront and defeat.

He had to do this.

He wanted to wake up and yell at Clint for calling him Sleeping Bucky.

He wanted to wake up and tease Clint endlessly for being such a dork.

He would do anything to make Clint not sad anymore.

Even if it meant confronting and defeating the very thing he had been trying to avoid.

He was the Winter Soldier, for fuck's sake. The most feared assassin of all time. He feared nothing!

This should be a piece of cake.

Taking a deep breath, he dove deep into the recesses of his memories. This time, he wasn't just the spectator.

He was James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, Steve's bestest friend, Clint's Sleeping Bucky, and these were his memories. He remembered and felt everything - from the time he met scrawny Steve, from the time they were enlisted, from the time they went to war, from the time he saved Steve and fell, only to wake up not remembering anything anymore except to follow orders.

Bucky snagged that particular piece of memory and dove in.

He could see himself strapped onto that chair, surrounded by men in HYDRA uniform and for a moment, he froze, suddenly not sure if this was a dream, or a reality.

_"I never miss my targets, but I miss you, Bucky."_

_"Come back to us."_

_"Come back to me."_

Clint.

With a furious snarl, Bucky reached out for the fucking man holding the fucking red book. He ripped out the book from the man's hands before bashing his skull in. He might not have the metal arm anymore, but he was still a fucking super soldier. Soldiers opened fire at him but Bucky ignored them all as he marched towards the console.

This was his memory. He was in charge, and nothing could hurt him here.

He smashed his fist into the console until the straps holding the other Bucky snapped open. Bucky reached out to help pull the other Bucky out from the accursed chair.

"Thank you," It was kinda weird to be thanked by yourself, but oh well.

Bucky held out the damned red book. "Let's destroy this thing together."

They ripped the book apart, into pieces, before throwing the pieces onto the floor. Bucky grabbed a nearby flamethrower to burn the motherfucker into ashes before the other Bucky snatched it from him to set the chair on fire.

Around them, everything was crumbling to the ground.

He had burned the book and killed the one who was responsible of him becoming the Winter Soldier.

He had released his other self from that chair, who in turn had burned it down. 

He had successfully destroyed the programming.

Nearby, a portal of golden light crackled into existence.

"Go!" the other Bucky yelled at him, "This place won't last much longer!"

Bucky glanced at his other self one final time. 

"Goodbye, Winter Soldier."

The Winter Soldier gave him a salute. "Good luck, James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky saluted back, then stepped into the vortex of crackling light.

And he emerged into the brightness.

* * *

 "Bucky, Bucky, you did it, Bucky. I don't know how, but you did it! You did it!" Steve's tearful voice was the first thing he heard before his vision adjusted enough to see the man in tears beside his bed.

Oh. He was no longer in the cryo. He was in bed now. 

"Yeah, Stevie, I did," Bucky rasped, "And stop crying. It's gross, geez!"

Bucky's eyes wandered until they found Clint, standing inconspicuously by the door as if he would bolt anytime.

"C'mere, Clint."

Clint hesitated. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Clint."

Steve stepped away so Clint could take his place. Clint gingerly sat on the chair Steve had just vacated, his face closed off, but there was no denying the obvious relief in his eyes. 

Bucky reached out to give Clint a resounding smack on his head. 

Predictably, Clint screeched in indignant protest. "What the hell was that for?!"

"For calling me 'Sleeping Bucky'," Bucky glared at the archer. 

Clint's eyes went wide with horror. "You could hear me?"

"Of course," Bucky was all too happy to be smug about it. "I wasn't really sleeping. I could hear what was going on outside the cyro."

Clint paled considerably. "Then, then you heard..."

Bucky smirked. " _'I never miss my targets but I miss you, Bucky_.' Seriously, Clint? What a dork."

"Oh god," Clint buried his face in his hands. 

Steve was staring at them both, utterly confused. Bucky decided to enlighten him by quoting exactly what Clint had told him the other night. 

"' _And I heard that you know, it's a mental thing. They said that if you delve deep into your memories and confront that particular memory that made you the Winter Soldier instead of the Sleeping...James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, Steve's bestest friend, if you confront and defeat that particular memory, you'll break free of the programming and eventually wake up on your own..."_

"Oh god," Clint groaned again.

Steve looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only sighed. 

"Whatever it is, thank you for bringing Bucky back." Steve was so earnest in his gratitude that Clint actually flushed. 

"Nah," Clint did that rubbing-the-back-of-his-neck thing, which Bucky found to be stupidly endearing, "I didn't do much, actually. It's all Bucky. I'm just..."

"'...  _a walking human disaster fresh out of retirement.'_ " Bucky cut in, scowling at Clint, who looked affronted. 

"Stop quoting what I've said!"

Bucky stared at him for a long quiet moment. "Dork."

Clint's indignation turned into mischief. "Sleeping Beauty."

Bucky was short of throwing a pillow at Clint. "Stop comparing me to some fairy tale Princess!"

Steve gave that long suffering sigh as he bodily hauled Clint up from the chair and headed towards the door with Clint struggling in his arms. "Alright Clint, your visiting privileges for today has been revoked. You and I are going to have a long talk."

Steve threw a look over his shoulder to look at Bucky. "Rest well, Bucky."

Clint managed to yell, "Sweet dreams, Sleeping Bucky!" before Steve carried him away. 

Bucky leaned back against his pillows, smiling fondly in the ensuing silence. 

"What a dork."


	9. WinterHawk Special Christmas Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky decided to visit Clint in his Bed-Stuy apartment. 
> 
> He didn't know what he had gotten himself into. 
> 
> But knowing Clint, he should have known. 
> 
> But then again, this is Clint.

_**\- December 23rd -** _

Bucky decided that Christmas this year was gonna suck ass, and definitely not in a pleasurable way.

The Avengers were deployed last night to fend off a HYDRA attack somewhere in Europe and Steve firmly didn't allow him to tag along.

"But Stevie!" He started to protest, only to be cut off by Steve's utterly disappointed look, which, hey, no fair. "I'm fine already!"

"Bucky," Steve tried and failed to sound patient. In the end he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "It's not about you being fine or not, okay? You are still not cleared for duty. Besides, maybe you can help keep an eye on Hawkeye. God knows what kind trouble he might have gotten himself into."

Clint who was still on medical leave. Clint who currently stayed in Bed-Stuy and that's right; Bucky didn't trust the man to be okay by himself.

"We'll be back by Christmas," Steve promised. "We'll drop by Clint's apartment for Christmas celebration as soon as we're done."

"You better don't forget my present!" Bucky grumbled, and just like that, Steve gave him a two-fingered salute and then he was off, joining the others in the Quinjet.

_**\- December 24th -** _

_**3:00pm:** _

Bucky stood uncertainly in front of Clint's apartment door. He had double checked the address and was confident he reached the right place but he hadn't call Clint to tell him he was coming and would Clint even be happy to see him?

To hell with it, Bucky decided, raising his fist to bang on the door in rapid, impatient succession.

Excited dog barks responded, followed by a crash and a distressed "Aww, Christmas tree, no..." and then a plaintive, "What is it, Lucky boy? No, I can't take you out for a walk now. I'm busy ~~~"

Bucky was this close to banging his head on the door multiple times. Instead he rapped harder on the door, this time yelling, "Clint, dammit, open the fucking door!"

The dog, Lucky, barked again, sounding a lot closer before going away and coming back, still incessantly barking. Smart boy. He's luring Clint to the door.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming, geez!" was all Bucky heard before the door was unlocked and thrown wide open, revealing a shirtless, bruised Clint tangled in fairy lights, mussed hair and dusty face. Oh, no hearing aids. That explained why Clint took so long to come to the door.

"Hey," Bucky signed, smirking when Clint stood gaping at him with eyes widened comically.

"Bucky?" Clint sounded as astonished as he looked, "What are you doing here?"

"Why?" Bucky snarked, "I can't visit you, is that it?" Without waiting for Clint to respond, Bucky shouldered his way into the apartment.

And was promptly greeted by a disaster of the living room. A Christmas tree had toppled over, exploding twigs and leaves everywhere, baubles all over the floor, boxes and packing materials in a disgruntled mess.

"What the hell happened in here?!"

"Shaddap," Clint muttered, coming to stand beside him. A glance told him that Clint had put on his hearing aids. "I was trying to inject some Christmas spirit here, okay?"

"More like Christmas vomited all over," Bucky snorted. "You could have asked for help, you idiot. What are you thinking, trying to decorate using your splinted fingers, cracked ribs and sprained ankle?!"

"Yeah, well," Clint ran said fingers through his hair, before wincing and bringing them back down to cradle said ribs.

"For fuck's sake, Clint, sit down! Let me help."

_**Later:** _

"Clint, why are there only purple and silver ornaments?"

"Uh... Because I like purple... And silver reminds me of you?"

Bucky was not blushing at that one, okay?

"Clint, where's the star for the tree?!"

"Uhh, I might have used it as a ninja throwing star at some point. There was an attempted robbery uh, yesterday. The star was stuck at the man's unmentionables, okay? But we can use a replica of Captain America's shield over there, since it has a star and all..."

...

"Where do you even get this stupid shield?"

"Oh! I saw this at a thrift store! Lucky loves playing fetch with it."

...

"How and where do you want me to hang the lights?"

"Wavy kind. Uh, over there. Bucky, one loop is lower than the others. That one is too high. Erm, the other one is too far... And..."

"Would you shut up and let me do my work?!"

"Yes, yes, okay, sorry, sorry. Uh, coffee, Bucky?"

"Oh god, yes please. Oh. Tell me you have a vacuum cleaner or something..."

"Uh, broom and dustpan? They're in the kitchen. Mop and pail are in the bathroom by the way."

"I'm not your fucking maid!"

"I'm sorry. You've done enough for today. You helped me a lot. I'll do it. I'll do it."

"No, you just sit your ass down on the couch and stay with Lucky. I've got this. Just sit your ass down!"

"Yes, Bucky. So bossy. Do you want pizza? No, not asking you, Lucky. You always want pizza. Bucky, pizza?"

"Yes. Double of everything, and twice as much as you usually ordered. Make them thrice. Tell me you have beer here... It's so fucking hot. Is this actually an apartment or a slum? Tony's lab is cleaner than this place!"

"Hey, invalid here. Can't clean much. Beer's in the fridge. Besides, you look adorably manly with your man bun. Should tie your hair more often, Bucky."

"You think so?"

"Oh yes."

"Maybe I should just cut it short."

"Aww, Bucky, no..."

"Heh. I'm gonna hit the shower first before the pizza's here."

"'kay. Uh, Bucky?"

"What?"

"Do you mind helping me with the plumbing...?"

"Dammit, Clint!"

"Sorry! And uh, thank you."

_**11:50pm:** _

"I'm so tired I could hardly move," Bucky groaned, sprawling inelegantly on the couch. Showered and then eaten his fill, warmed to his bones with beer and Clint's nearness, he was finally relaxing. He hissed in annoyance when Clint poked him.

"You're a super soldier, Bucky."

"Exactly," Bucky agreed curtly. "Not super servant."

"Hey," Clint sounded affronted, "I didn't even ask you to come down, much less help me."

Bucky levelled Clint with a glare. "I wouldn't even be complaining if you had called me in the first place."

"You were busy Avengering."

"No, I wasn't," Bucky scowled. "I am still not cleared for duty."

"Oh." Clint blinked, then said defensively. "But I thanked you with pizzas and coffees and beers and Dog Cops, so we're even."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever rocks your boat. Eat your damn medicine, will you?"

"Yes, Mom!" Clint sassed, and did as he was told.

_**\- December 25th, 12:00mn -** _

"Bucky?"

Bucky blinked. He thought Clint had fallen asleep already. They were still snuggling on the couch, still watching the special Christmas Edition of Dog Cops. "Yeah?"

Clint shifted until he was facing Bucky properly, and Bucky turned to look at him. Clint looked anxious, but surprisingly earnest that Bucky was alarmed for a moment.

"Merry Christmas," Clint said, blushing sheepishly. "Uh, I couldn't manage to get you anything but... I already have this for awhile and I thought today is the best day to give it to you, you know, if you wanna accept it.."

As Clint fished inside his pants pocket for something, he was saying, "I know I'm a tragic, hopeless trainwreck of a human disaster, always getting into trouble, always getting injured, always have issues, oftentimes more of a burden than a help, but uh..."

When Clint finally produced the item from his pocket and showed it to Bucky, Bucky nearly stopped breathing.

"On this merry Christmas, will you marry me, James Buchanan Barnes?" Clint's voice was soft, heartbreakingly hopeful as he opened the tiny silver box to reveal two silver rings inscribed with an arrow and a red star. The ring with the arrow was bigger than the one with the red star.

"Oh Clint," No, Bucky wasn't crying, dammit. And his voice definitely wasn't cracking when he said "Yes, Clint. I do. I really, really do, Clinton Francis Barton."

Clint's smile was watery as he slid the bigger ring onto Bucky's finger, and Bucky would have done the same if not for Clint's splinted fingers.

"Uh," Clint was laughing now. "There's a chain in the box, so it can become a necklace instead of a ring."

So Bucky looped the chain through the ring and fastened it around Clint's neck.

And then they kissed, but apparently, just kissing wasn't enough, so Bucky carried Clint bridal style to the bedroom, despite Clint's breathless protests.

It was only then that Bucky decided that Christmas this year wasn't so bad afterall.

In fact, it was the best, and most precious Christmas of all times.

Merry Christmas indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Hope you like this little present from me. ^^
> 
> Thank you for reading, and happy holidays!!!


End file.
